(DISCONTINUED! REWRITE IS OUT NOW) Down the Rabbit Hole {Danganronpa}

Chapter 16 ~ Painful Memories

Shuichi woke up, slightly confused. The feeling of someone having their arms around him, squeezing tightly, had startled him awake. He was surprised to look down and see Kokichi cuddling him, still peacefully asleep. The events of yesterday flooded through his brain, bringing up the same question he had been wondering since yesterday. Why did Kokichi get so mad yesterday? And why did he start crying?

Carefully moving Kokichi off, he got up, searching the house a bit more. It hadn't looked too lived in yet not abandoned either. There didn't appear to be dust anywhere, though, there wasn't much that could collect it. A table stood in the middle of the room, an empty plate laying on it. In the corner of the room was a large bookshelf, filled with a bunch of books, a knife, and a picture frame. Leaning against it was a chair.

Curious, Shuichi analyzed the contents on the shelves, his eyes stopping at the picture frame. In it was Kokichi and himself standing in the same house. Upon a closer look, the Shuichi in the picture had bear ears, having a nervous smile while Kokichi held him close, putting a knife to the Shuichi's neck. The Shuichi appeared to be holding the camera selfie stlye, though, by the quality of the picture, seemed a bit shaky.

He had mixed thoughts on this. On one hand, the two seemed like close friends. On the other, this Kokichi would kill without a second thought. Most likely same for this world's Shuichi. This world was pratically filled with crazy murderers. Would it be so hard to believe they could've turned on each other, Shuichi losing the fight? There didn't seem to be another Shuichi present anywhere he went. Actually, no one even seemed to know him. Did these people lose memories of people once they die? And if so, that wouldn't make sense with Kokichi bringing him here.

After glancing back at the shelf, Shuichi realized the knife in the picture was the same one on the shelf. Shakily putting the picture back, he picked up the knife, seeing dried up blood splattered on it. The longer he started at it, the more he feared the conclusion he was coming to. Could this possibly be his blood? Looking back at the picture once more, there was little chance that was taken before that Shuichi died. But he was obviously scared. Kokichi must have done something to him. Perhaps keeping him captive? Kokichi had locked Shuichi in his room before. Did Shuichi almost suffer the same fate as the other? Was he still going to suffer?

There was no way to get these answers. Thinking for a bit, Shuichi came to the conclusion that he needed to get out of there. He didn't want to believe Kokichi brought him here just to kill him, concidering Kokichi had stopped him from killing himself. But he needed to be one-hundred percent sure. And, though no one would stop Kokichi, Shuichi would feel safer only being with him in the public eye. Which meant he needed to leave, and he needed to leave now.

"Shuichi, put that down," Kokichi shouted, his voice cold.

Shuichi jumped, dropping the picture before turning to come face to face with Kokichi, who showed no emotions and had somehow manage to sneak up on him.

"I guess I should've known you'd look around. You probably already know what happened, being the detective you are." Kokichi walked around Shuichi to the book shelf, grabbing one of the books, opening it to reveal a clock hidden within it. He carefully picked it up, showing Shuichi. The clock was busted up, stained with dried blood. "Do you know what these are to us?"

Shuichi recalled that day he saw someone pull clocks out of people's chest, killing them. His eyes widened as he took a step back, shaking his head. He didn't want to believe it.

"There are our hearts, Shuichi. And do you know who's heart this is?"

Shuichi thought for a second, before whispering, "Mine." He took another step back, not wanting to beleive he was staring at other Shuichi's heart.